


A Place I Could Not Find

by gimmefire



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Angst, M/M, Regret
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-28
Updated: 2008-12-28
Packaged: 2017-12-03 18:00:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/701080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gimmefire/pseuds/gimmefire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brazil 2008. <i>Fernando had been loitering near the Brand Centre for close to five minutes and spent more than half an hour in Renault's little corner of the paddock grumbling to himself about just getting on with it and why was he making it so difficult? Well, now Ron was right in front of him. Of course it was going to be difficult.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	A Place I Could Not Find

**Author's Note:**

> The author would like to assert that she may write the pairing but she doesn't have to like it ~~even though she does a bit~~. Deviates a bit from canon. Beta and title by [](http://tasyfa.livejournal.com/profile)[tasyfa](http://tasyfa.livejournal.com/).

Fernando hesitated for a while, hovering almost outside the suddenly daunting Brand Centre. It was quite clear through the power of sheer noise that the celebrations were well underway inside, and frankly he didn't want to get involved. He wanted to slip in there, say his piece to the right people and slip back out again. It didn't have to be a big deal. He didn't want it to be a big deal. He had other things to do beyond standing outside quite so uselessly.

When the motivation to just go inside failed to materialize within him, Fernando swore darkly under his breath.

_I have other things to do._

Pulling his phone from his pocket under the pretence that he'd just received a message telling him that he had to be somewhere else – because evidently his brain was choosing that moment to care about what others thought of him – Fernando headed off, intent on seeing a few other faces in the paddock before going back to his hotel.

He didn't make it very far at all before almost walking right into a certain champagne-wielding team boss. Fernando had been loitering near the Brand Centre for close to five minutes and spent more than half an hour in Renault's little corner of the paddock grumbling to himself about just getting on with it and why was he making it so difficult?

Well, now Ron was right in front of him. Of course it was going to be difficult.

"Good race," Ron commented, a sparkle in his eyes that Fernando could remember from early last season. Unsure whether the older man was referring to his own team's fortunes, Fernando's or just overall, Fernando merely hummed in wordless agreement. The pause that followed wasn't particularly weighty, but each of them appeared to be waiting for the other to speak first; with the festivities carrying on in a loud manner behind him, Fernando thought he'd better say what he came to say, Ron could get back to his team and Fernando could carry on with his life.

"Congratulations."

The word didn't stick in his throat, and he even managed a gracious, if small, smile. Who would have thought it? Not Ron, it seemed, because he grinned wide enough for those little creases to appear at the corners of his eyes. Another distantly familiar sight.

"Thank you," Ron replied, and it sounded sincere. That's all Fernando could hear, though; no wisp of longing or regret. This was evidently McLaren Ron, or Lewis's Ron, depending on how bitter he was feeling - the same Ron that DC had spent season upon season tearing his hair out over. Fernando doubted that the Scot had ever become as close to Ron as he had, despite their years together, and in many ways that was worse.

He didn't damn well _want_ to hear longing or regret, Fernando told himself abruptly. Things were complicated enough.

The second pause was only faintly awkward and half as long, because Ron spoke up again. "You're welcome to come in, if you want," he offered suddenly, before adding, "I'm sure Lewis would appreciate it."

Fernando snorted. "I think maybe Lewis has forgotten that I exist at the moment." He took a slow inward breath, actually considering the offer for a few moments. An almighty cheer went up from within the Brand Centre, making him look around sharply, and it seemed to decide for him. He couldn't think of anything significant to say that wouldn't come across as snide or bitter, whether he would truly mean it to or not, so he gave a loose shrug. "No thanks."

Ron smiled again, understanding, almost to the point of not seeming bothered at all by Fernando's refusal. "Well. Thanks for coming over." He raised the sealed bottle of champagne in his hand in a 'better be going' gesture and continued past the Spaniard. His free hand came up and gave Fernando's shoulder a pat, a little squeeze, and then he was off to the party. Fernando watched him go.

To the casual observer, the brief touch might have looked condescending; Fernando faintly wished that it had felt that way. There was simplicity in the animosity he was repeatedly informed by the press that he felt towards McLaren and Lewis, and if he had let himself slip into that angry, vengeful mindset more often this season, it might have been less painful. Jarno, drunk and in the midst of a bitter diatribe against Renault, had once likened his situation to being dumped and then watching your ex have the time of their life every weekend. Fernando now understood with cold clarity what his friend had meant.

The casual observer might be seeing him gaze longingly back at his former team's abode, wrenched by jealousy or pining in wistful regret, so Fernando dragged his eyes away, choosing to stare at the ground for a few moments before continuing on his way.

_I have other things to do._


End file.
